that Rima carried a glittering object. I saw it clearly as I peered into the room.
It was the scent-spray!
And, as I watched, I saw her stoop and spray the face of the motionless man in the bed!
She turned.... She was coming out again.
I drew back and hurried to my shadowy comer. Rima appeared in the moonlight. She looked unnaturally pale. But with never a glance to right or left she walked to her room and went in. Her eyes were wide-open-- staring.
Absolute silence....
Then Nayland Smith appeared. He was fully dressed but he had removed his shoes.
He signalled to me to approach Rima's window. A man stupefied--horror, amaze- ment, incredulity, each fighting for a place--I obeyed. Dropping to my knees again, I peered in....
Rima, at the green marble wash-basin, was emptying the scent-spray! She allowed hot water to run for some time, and then carefully rinsed the container and the fitting. Replacing the latter in position, she put the bottle on the dressing-table where I had found it... and went to bed!
Nayland Smith beckoned to me. I rose and walked very unsteadily along the terrace to his room.
6
'Rima!' I said. 'Rima! My God, Sir Denis, what does it mean?'
He grasped by shoulder hard.
'Nothing,' he replied.
His keen eyes studied my amazement.
'Nothing? '
'Just that--nothing. I warned you it might prove to be an ordeal. Sit down. A peg of whisky will do us both good....'
I sat down without another word. And Nayland Smith brewed two stiff pegs.
Handing one to me:
'Here's part of the explanation,' he jerked --and held a book under my nose. 'Smell. Only one sniff!'
A sickly-sweet odour came from the open pages. The book was that which Rima had been reading in the library.
'Familiar?'
I nodded; and took a long drink. My hand was none too steady. It was a perfume I could never forget. It formed my last memory of the meeting of the Seven at el-Kharga; my first memory of that dreadful awakening in the green-gold room in Limehouse!
'Hashish!' snapped Nayland Smith--'or something prepared from it. Rima, by means of this doped book, was put into a receptive condition. It's a routine, Greville, with which Petrie is unhappily familiar... hence Petrie's detention on the way!
'Fah Lo Suee is an accomplished hypnotist! For this piece of knowledge I am also indebted to the doctor: he once all but succumbed to her... and she was only in her teens in those days. She was posted outside the closed french windows of the library tonight. In some way, and at the psychological moment, she attracted Rima's attention--and obtained mental control over her. '
'But... is this possible? '
'You have seen it in full operation.' he answered. 'Rima was given hypnotic orders to go to her room for a scent-spray. She obeyed. That was when, from my post in the Chinese cabinet, I heard her hurry upstairs. She brought the spray, opened the window-- I heard her--and gave it to Fah Lo Suee-- whose name, by the way, means 'Sweet Perfume'. It was emptied, recharged and returned to her. She reclosed the window... having received those detailed post-hypnotic instructions which we have seen her carry out to-night. '
'But--my bewilderment was increasing --'I spoke to her after this! I even asked why she had fetched the scent-spray, and she said she had detected a sickly smell--like decaying leaves--and thought it would freshen the air.'
Tart other orders!' he rapped. 'Next, she was instructed to go to bed and sleep until midnight; then to spray me with the contents --which I preserved for analysis and replaced with water!--and then to remove all traces-- as we know she did do! My dear fellow, Rima is utterly unaware that she has played this part... and doubtless it would have been an easy death! '
'You mean,when she wakes, she will know nothing about now--'
'Nothing whatever! Unless, perhaps, as in Petrie's case, the memory of a troubled dream. However, I have hopes... if my Morse orders were promptly obeyed. '
'You mean your signal to Weymouth?'
He nodded, and:
'The 'gypsies,'' he rapped.
'What!' 'Three are dacoits--one posing as an old hag! The Toy of the party is Fah Lo Suee!'
Chapter Eleventh
DR. AMBER
'I can't blame myself,' said Weymouth, staring disconsolately out of the window. 'She's slipped through our fingers again. A real chip of the old block,' he added. 'It took a load off my mind, after the Limehouse raid, to hear that Nayland Smith had seen Fu Manchu himself, in person, in Paris--and lost him!...'
The 'gypsy' caravan behind the big plan- tation which formed a western boundary to Sir Lionel's Norfolk place had been seized by a party of constabulary under Weymouth's command--and had proved to be empty. This had happened three days before, but it still rankled in the superintendent's mind.
'I can't hang on here indefinitely,' he explained, 'I'm badly needed in Cairo at the moment. The disappearance of Sir Denis and yourself was the real excuse for my leave, but now....'
His point was clear enough. Weymouth was a staunch friend, but he loved his job. He had come to England in pursuit of a clue which suggested that Nayland Smith and I had been smuggled into Europe. We were found. Duty called him back.
'It isn't your present job, I admit,' said I; 'but it's the tail end of an old one, after all!'
He turned and stared at me across the room. I was back at the Park Avenue looking after a hundred and one interests of the chief's which centred in London. He, with Rima, remained in Norfolk--where, now that Nayland Smith had left, he might count on peace. Of Nayland Smith's present move- ments I knew nothing.
'You've hit it!' Weymouth admitted. 'I'd like to be in at the death.'
Certainly it was a queer situation for him --for all of us. Dr. Fu Manchu, most formidable of all those greater criminals who from time to time disturb the world, was alive ... and his daughter, no poor second to this stupendous genius, had already proved that she was competent to form subject of debate in the councils of the highest.
Weymouth's expression struck me as ominous; and:
'The death is likely to be that of Nayland Smith,' I said, 'judging from our experience at Abbots Hold.'
Weymouth nodded.
'He stands between her and all she aims for,' he replied. 'He's countered two of her first three moves and he's promised me word within the next hour. But'--he stared at me very grimly--'you and I, Greville, know more about the group called the Si Fan than most people outside it.'
I laughed--somewhat hollowly, perhaps.
'Get back to Cairo,' I advised. 'It's prob- ably safer than London at the moment--for you.'
Weymouth's sense of humour on such points always failed him. His blue eyes hard- ened; he literally glared at me; and:
'I never ran away from Dr. Fu Manchu,' he replied. 'If you think I'm going to run away from his daughter you're wrong.'
At that I laughed again, and this time my laughter rang true. I punched the speaker playfully.
